And his next words do not help at all. “Come on, you looked pretty jealous back on the soccer field. You didn’t think I’d notice? I saw the way you were all outraged. It was pretty funny actually. I’m not into schoolgirls but they’re fun to play with. You are fun to play with. Plus as I said, girls have always found me irresistible and I know you’re not immune. So if you have a little crush on me, no one would blame you. Especially not now. I’m not with your sister anymore. This could be your turn. Your golden fucking chance.”
My turn.
This could be my turn.
He’s right.
I was jealous. And now I know that he was flirting with those girls to provoke me.
I do have a crush on him, only my crush feels like love, big and doomed. All consuming.
It is love.
It has been love for years. For eight miserable years when I’ve cried in my pillow, written him secret letters, pined for him, longed for him, watched him.
Because he was in love with someone else. He was in love with my sister.
But he’s not with her anymore, is he?
I know I promised myself that I’d stay away from him and keep him safe from my advances.
But he’s the one suggesting it and he’s in pain and…
And then, I’m not thinking anything at all because he’s touching me again.
The thumb that he was moving back and forth on my belly is now on the corner of my mouth.
Arrow uses that rough thumb to trace the curve of my lower lip that’s started to tremble. My whole body starts to tremble when he tugs my lip, making me part my mouth.
Making me arch my back and get pulled toward his body.
“Not to mention, this could be your revenge.” He tugs harder at my lip and I go up on my tiptoes. “I know your relationship with your sister is complicated. Has been for years. Maybe you could get even with her. We both could. All you have to do is say yes.”
He’s still swiping his thumb back and forth, still looking down at me with blazing eyes, and my body is still straining toward him like a lovesick fool.
Maybe that’s why it takes me a second to understand his meaning.
Revenge on my sister. For having a complicated relationship with her.
Being a distraction for Arrow could be my revenge on my own sister.
As soon as I understand that, something flips inside of me.
Something that gives me so much strength that I raise my arm and knock his thumb away. Not only that, I use that palm to smack him, his harsh cheek.
And I don’t do it just once. I do it twice. I do it so harshly that my palm burns with the impact.
But on him, there’s hardly any effect.
Except for the flare of his nostrils and the tic of his jaw, he looks unaffected.
“You’re a pig,” I tell him with a vibrating voice. “You know that? You’re an asshole. I can’t believe you said that to me. I can’t believe you would… I’ll never do that to my sister, you understand? Ever. It hurt me, it actually hurt me that you guys broke up. Because you guys are being stupid and stubborn and I wanted you to get back together. I wanted to help you guys get back together. God, I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” I shake my head. “Stay away from me. And stay away from my sister. She is better off without you.”
My palm still burns.
It’s been twenty-four hours and I think it still shines scarlet, the heel of my palm. With which I touched him.
For the very first time, no less.
Yeah, the first time I really touched the guy I love, I smacked him. Not once but twice. And he deserved it by the way, for saying those horrible things to me.
I’m not going to pretend that I’m some kind of a saint, a good girl. I have committed the crime of falling in love with my sister’s boyfriend.
I have committed the crime of wanting him and craving him and watching him while he was with her. I’ve always considered myself dangerous, a ticking time bomb.
That’s why I was running away that night. That’s why I will run away when I get my chance again.
But not once, not in my entire life, have I thought despicable things about my sister.
If I’d blown up like a bomb that I am, I would’ve done it for love. I would’ve done it because my heart got so swollen with wrong cravings and secret longings that it burst out of my chest on its own.
Not for revenge. Never for revenge.
And I won’t let him think such despicable thoughts either. I can’t let him be that angry and hurt and miserable. So miserable that he’s thinking of hurting someone else.